


The Pleasure of Being Up Pinned Against Walls

by QuothTheRaven_Nevermore



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Physical Abuse, Short One Shot, Violence, from a tumblr post i saw, like really short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:57:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuothTheRaven_Nevermore/pseuds/QuothTheRaven_Nevermore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once second he's flipping the pancake in the air, hoping that it would land in the pan and not on the ground like last time and the next, he's pinned up against the wall, Bucky's arm inches away from his head. Instinctively he clenches his eyes shut, waiting for the first blow but it never comes.</p><p>Basically Steve and Bucky kissing in a kitchen while some pancakes burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pleasure of Being Up Pinned Against Walls

**Author's Note:**

> So once again this is from a post on Tumblr. It's not my idea and it was sent to someone else but I saw it and wanted to write about it. The link to that post is at the end of the story (mostly because I couldn't figure out how to link it here, oops). And sorry if it bothers anyone that it's not double spaced like the other works are, I can't for the life of my figure out how to do that, sorry.

At first it happened more often than either of them liked. Every day, at least once a day. Steve would be going about his daily duties, or maybe just sitting down and taking the time to relax. He'd close his eyes and take a deep breath, sleep tugging at the edges of his consciousness, his breathing would slow and he'd start to drift off. And then the next thing he knew, he'd be pinned up against a wall, or being slammed into the furniture, sharp pains exploding all over his body where Bucky's metal fist landed. He'd try to stop him of course, but he'd never fight back. Steve would plead and try to reason with Bucky, but it was to no avail. One look in his eyes and Steve knew that Bucky wasn't really there with him, instead he was back in the rooms where they did God knows what to him. The look in his eyes was one of an animal trapped in a cage, struggling to get out. So Steve would take the slaps, roll with the punches and deal with the kicks. He'd hear his ribs crack, he'd feel the bones in his arms splinter because of how hard that metal arm could really grip, and he'd most definitely feel every bruise that blossomed on his face, his chest, his back. But he would never whisper, never even think a word of complaint. Because it wasn't really Bucky that was doing it, it was the results of years of repressed memories and the guilt of actions that made Bucky sick to even think about.  
Once it was over, which sometimes Steve felt like it would never be, it was always the same thing. Steve would be covered in blood and pain would be etched into every one of his features, and Bucky's eyes would fill with horror at what he'd done. Steve would try to reassure him that it wasn't his fault, but how could it not be when it was his hand that threw the punch and it was his hand that was covered in Steve's blood? Bucky would be disgusted with himself, that was all he seemed to be these days, and he would apologize until the words had no meaning anymore. Steve always forgave him, he'd told Bucky as much, but every time Bucky would say "I'm so sorry" until he thought that he'd never speak another phrase.

  
Gradually, with help from therapists and counselors and groups and anything else Bucky thought might help him stop hurting the man he loved most, these incidents started to come fewer and farther in between. They went from once a day, to once a week, to every other week, to being so rare that Steve thought they'd surpassed them completely. Until one day when he's making pancakes for breakfast, thinking of how much Bucky would enjoy them. Once second he's flipping the pancake in the air, hoping that it would land in the pan and not on the ground like last time and the next, he's pinned up against the wall, Bucky's arm inches away from his head. Instinctively he clenches his eyes shut, waiting for the first blow but it never comes. He cautiously opens one eye and then the other. What he sees isn't what he was expecting. Bucky is looking at him with the most gentle look in his eyes, one that's fully of love but laced with guilt because he sees the fear in Steve he's eyes. Before Steve can ask what Bucky's doing, he's being kissed. It takes him a second to process that instead of the usual pain that accompanies being held against a wall, there's pleasure. Steve closes his eyes and kisses Bucky back, tangling his hand in Bucky's longer hair. They kiss until they run out of breath, and then they kiss some more. In each kiss, Steve can feel Bucky trying to apologize for everything he's done to him, but not being able to find the words to say it. And something more, a promise that makes Steve's heart race and makes his blood rush to another part of his body as well. It's a promise that Bucky is going to make up for everything he's done as soon as they get up stairs. Before they can move, there's a loud ringing sound that fills their house. They break apart, startled. Bucky's laugh fills the room as he realizes that Steve left the stove on and that the pancake is now nothing more than a black circle stuck to the pan. They hadn't noticed because they were too wrapped up in each other. Steve is laughing too in between coughs, shutting the fire alarm off and doing his best to try and get the smoke out of their kitchen.

"If you didn't want to sleep with me, Rogers," Bucky teases, "You could've just said so. You didn't have to set the house on fire."

  
Steve's response is a loud laugh and a playful glare. Eventually, the smoke clears and all that's left is the both of them and a wall that Steve has seemed to become very acquainted with. Without hesitating, Bucky closes the distance in a few long strides and has his arm around Steve's waist and his lips pressed together again. Steve doesn't know how much time has passed before Bucky's carrying him upstairs, his metal arm carrying Steve's weight easily. Steve's got his legs around Bucky's waist and he laughs as he realizes that they look like they're in one of those cheesy-romance-movie sex scenes. Bucky smiles, not caring why Steve's laughing, only knowing that it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard. As they reach their bedroom and Bucky kicks the door closed behind him, Steve realizes that he might come to love being pinned up against a wall.

 

 

 

 

 

Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://imagines-library.tumblr.com/). I am very lonely lmao 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it and I did the post justice. Comments/advice are appreciated!


End file.
